


Restoration (An Interlude)

by bloodyromantic



Series: The Heart of a Knave [5]
Category: Alice in Wonderland (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyromantic/pseuds/bloodyromantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Timewise, this takes place between chapters 8 and 9 of "The Past is Prologue." Here we have more smut than story. ;-)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Restoration (An Interlude)

**Author's Note:**

> Timewise, this takes place between chapters 8 and 9 of "The Past is Prologue." Here we have more smut than story. ;-)

The ice that gathers round my heart  
May there be thawed; and sweetly, then,  
The joys of youth, that now depart,  
Will come to cheer my soul again.  
~Anne Bronte, “Lines Written from Home”

 

“This is going to be very different for me,” Casiphia Rhoswen told Ilosovic Stayne. “The last time I lived in the same chambers with anyone was when I was very small and had a nurse.”

“I'm a little ahead of you then,” he said. “I bunked with several other boys when I began sword training, and I've camped out with the Red Guard on more than one occasion. This, I expect, will be more enjoyable than either of those.”

Nivens McTwisp waited for them to finish conversing, then handed them each a shining golden key, bowed neatly, and hopped away down the corridor.

“Here we are, then,” Casiphia said. “Our own quarters. Shall we take a tour?”

“By all means, milady,” Ilosovic said, offering her his arm.

“I like the checkerboard floor,” Casiphia said, stepping into the sitting room. “All the touches of black, really. You'll appreciate not living in stark white rooms, I'd imagine. This has to have been a real change from Saluzen Grum.”

“As long as I don't have to see hearts everywhere, I'll be satisfied,” he said. “But I do have to appreciate Mirana even thinking of the color scheme.”

“She loves to decorate—I'm sure she was ecstatic to have the chance to do this,” Casiphia said. “Ah, that fireplace is going to be lovely in the wintertime. And now we have, ooh, a library,” she said, peeking into the next room of the suite with its shelves of books and two pale wooden desks. “You will find me here often.”

“And then of course we have the bedroom,” she said as they progressed on. “Mmm, imagine spending a cold morning in that bed with a fire in that fireplace, watching the snow fall outside.”

“I'm imagining it,” Stayne said, caressing the back of her neck.

“And here we have the bathroom suite and the dressing rooms, and oh my—a black marble bathtub,” Casiphia said, dropping to her knees and stroking the rim with its silvery veining. She looked at Ilosovic and tapped her lips with one finger, as though pondering something.

“I'll start the water,” Ilosovic said, easily picking up the hint.

“And I'll look for bath salts,” Casiphia said, jumping up and beginning to rummage through cabinets. “Well, look here,” she soon announced, holding up a jar of white rose petals and one of red.

“Mirana again?”

“Try to think of her as a mischievous big sister,” Casiphia said. “It will probably disturb you less than thinking of your queen being this involved in your personal affairs.”

“I hope so,” Ilosovic said, bending to give his lady a kiss. “Truly, a person needs some secrets from the court.”

Casiphia helped Ilosovic unfasten the long row of buttons down his shirt, and he undid the lacing on her gown. Their clothing was soon pushed to the side, and together they sank into the deep tub, the rose petals floating on the surface bright against the black of the marble. Together they relaxed into the water and each other's presence, reclining back and nestling against each other, appreciating the gentle moment after so many recent taxing events. At least until,

“Hold your breath,” said Ilosovic.

“Wha—?” said Casiphia, luckily realizing what he meant in time to gulp in a lungful of air before he pulled her under the water with him. The kiss that followed was as lengthy as it could be before they were forced to surface for air, rose petals clinging to their hair and skin. Shaking her wet hair out of her face, Casiphia languidly stretched her body the entire length of Stayne's, smiling contentedly as he leaned his head back on the rim of the tub and gave a heavy sigh.

“I think we should familiarize ourselves with the rest of the suite too,” she said after a bit. 

“What a splendid idea,” Ilosovic said, sitting up. Casiphia watched in appreciation as he stepped out of the tub, water streaming from his lanky limbs, and looked about the room till he found towels.

“Your turn to get out,” he said, lifting her out of the water and enfolding her in a fluffy white towel. Then he swung her up into his arms and carried her through the bedroom into the library, where he set her down upon one of the desks and undid the towel. From there it was a simple matter for him to begin nibbling at her neck and her throat, with special attention to the sensitive spots below her ears, and down to her breasts.

“Look, they're meeting me halfway,” he said, moving from one nipple to the next. Casiphia smacked him on the shoulder for that comment, but not by any definition forcefully, as she was most distracted by this point. 

Thrusting both hands into his wet black curls, she arched her back to meet him as he traced a line of kisses and bites along her skin.

She reached down to stroke him on a sensitive part of his body, but he caught her hand, saying, “Not yet.” And then he picked her up again and they were off to the parlor and the silky woven rug in front of the fireplace. 

“My turn to torture you now,” Casiphia said, her voice husky now. 

“Please do,” said Ilosovic, leaning back on his elbows. Casiphia straddled him, letting her damp hair swing against his chest, and began her own series of small bites, not entirely gentle, from neck to nipples.

“You smell like roses,” she said. “Usually it's cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon, really?” he said, momentarily distracted. “With you it's lilies.”

“Lilies and cinnamon, mmm,” she giggled. “And roses.” With that she swung a leg off him and reclined beside him, leaning down to take him into her mouth, slowly running her tongue up and down that smoothest of skin.

“If you don't stop that, this will all be over quite a bit sooner than I'd intended,” he breathed.

After a few more seconds, she sighed with the kind of disappointment that knows it will be followed by something equally good, and lay down beside him. “What next, milord?” she asked.

“First of all, this,” he said, suddenly atop her and teasing her with the organ she had been warned not to overstimulate. 

“If this is where you want to end this tour, by all means,” Casiphia managed to get out. “But if you were hoping to conclude in the bedroom, I think we should go there now.”

One more brief excursion in Stayne's arms, and they were embracing on the black wrought iron bed with its snowy linens, drawing the silky bed curtains so they were enclosed in a warm white glow.

And here at last he took her, and she responded greedily, one hand twisted in his hair and the other gripping his shoulder and leaving half-moon marks. When she ran her fingernails down his back with force he bucked in a way that encouraged her to do so again and again, and it wasn't long before they completed the act with an animal roar from Ilosovic and a long low cry from Casiphia.

They lay together afterwards looking at each other, stroking each other's faces and hair and murmuring their love. 

“I'll be right back,” Stayne said suddenly, pulling aside a bed curtain and swinging his legs onto the floor. 

“What are you doing?” Casiphia called, rolling onto her stomach, one arm bent next to her and the other stretched over her head, as she heard the sound of drawers opening and closing.

“Here we are,” Ilosovic said, returning to the bed. “Close your eyes.”

She did so, and felt him gently beginning to comb out the many tangles in her still-damp hair. Smiling, she soon fell into a doze, waking not long after with Ilosovic now resting at her side.

“It's a sugar cube,” Casiphia said sleepily. “We're sleeping inside a sugar cube.”

“You are a strange woman, but it is one of your finer qualities,” Ilosovic grinned. “And this has been a magnificent housewarming. Truly, I cannot imagine one finer.”

“I agree,” she said, smiling back. “I absolutely agree.”


End file.
